


What's There to Live For?

by SakuraBlossomStorm



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Character Death, F/M, Mention of Death, Romance, Sad Ending, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-18 19:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraBlossomStorm/pseuds/SakuraBlossomStorm
Summary: Ben is diagnosed with a terminal illness, and attends a support group to cope with his impending death. However, with six months to live, he wasn’t expecting to meet the love of his life at the group.





	1. Six Months

**Author's Note:**

> Another new story from me! Hopefully I'll finish this a lot faster than the others.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos in advance (and I'm sorry!)
> 
> A big thanks goes to Supervanillabear31 and Benjis-Cool-Times for their help and betaing! You two are amazing and I don't know where I'd be without you!

Being given six months to live was like being branded. 

Ben felt as though had a giant timer tattooed on his forehead, slowly ticking backwards, showing everyone that he only had so many hours, minutes, seconds, to live. 

He’d made his peace with dying. It was just a minor inconvenience to him now. 

It was like that R.E.M. song: ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it, but I feel fine.’

When he found out, it was a different matter. Ben first noticed the stomach pains a few months ago. He thought it was food poisoning at first and tried to shake it off. When the pain persisted, he finally stopped being stubborn and went to the doctors. A month or so later, he was diagnosed with stomach cancer and given six months to live.

Boom. Just like that. Ben’s life was decided for him.

Then came the five stages of grief. First was denial. Ben refused to accept it. He thought he was dreaming, that he’d wake up with no abdominal pains, and everything in his body would be healthy. But as the days passed, and medication was given to him to try and slow the cancer, it got more real.

Anger came fast and furious. Ben snapped at everyone. His family, friends, even strangers on the street for looking at him funny. He was never a confrontational guy, but something about being diagnosed with cancer had turned a switch on in his body, filling him with nothing but rage and jealousy. He found himself asking 'why' a lot. Why this had to happen to him, why not someone else.

Bargaining was a weird stage for him. As an atheist, Ben never considered praying, but he found himself clasping his hands together and begging for a miracle, for a cure to be found as soon as possible to help him.

Then came the depression. The numbing reality that he was sick and dying finally sunk in. There were days where he couldn’t get out of bed, refusing to move and just waiting there for death to come and take him.

Finally, acceptance. One morning, Ben just woke up, and, while death still hung around him like a bad smell, it suddenly felt bearable, like it was a part of him that he had to accept.

Days passed, and soon Ben found himself listening to ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’ and smirking to himself. He wasn’t afraid of anyone. Death was coming within the year, and he had to embrace it.

He’d be dying single and unmarried. He had been in and out of relationships for most of his life and had recently broken up with his girlfriend, Emily, just before being diagnosed. Now, no one wanted to date him, and, really, Ben didn’t want to date either. What was the point of going on a date just to tell them “by the way, in six months, I’ll actually be dead, so I’m not big on commitment.” 

Telling his friends and family was the worst part. His mother cried for days on end. Even his dad, who never showed any emotion whatsoever, shed a few tears for his son. Henry tried to make Ben feel normal, joking and ripping into his younger brother as always, but, instead of punching him hard on the arm, he’d always pat him like he was worried punching him would aggravate the cancer and kill him on the spot.

Steph took it the worst out of anyone. His younger sister sobbed for hours when he told her. She refused to accept it, refused to accept that her big brother would no longer be around. It didn’t help that she was pregnant at the time with her second child.

“What about us?” she sobbed. “You can’t just leave. She needs to meet her uncle.” 

Steph pointed to her slightly rounded tummy and cried harder. Ben didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to remind her that he was the one dying, and he should be the one crying. But emotions were hard to come by nowadays.

Other than the fact his family and friends constantly looked at him like he was a wounded animal, things had been the same. Sure, he had to take like thirty different types of medications a day, and sometimes he would wake up with a painful bloating in his stomach, but, really, things remained the same.

It was at his most recent hospital appointment when things changed again.

His nurse, Ann, was busy injecting Ben’s arm with another type of drug to stop the constant pain in his abdomen. After she finished, she got up, grabbed a pamphlet from her desk, and handed it to him.

“I think you should consider attending a support group,” Ann told him. “This is one they do here at the rec centre. It’s pretty good. I’ve received a lot of positive feedback from it.”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Look, it’s low commitment, just an hour every Monday and Thursday. It’s something that might help you cope. Plus, being around people who are in the same boat as you might be nice,” Ann told him, as she pressed a band-aid to Ben’s skin.

Ben sighed. “I really don’t feel comfortable being around other people with cancer. It’s like grouping us together because you think no one else will want to talk to us.”

Ann frowned at him. “I’ve known you for a while now, Ben. This is a chance to meet new people who won’t look at you and treat you differently because you’re sick. Just go to one session, please?”

Ben rolled his eyes and looked down at the pamphlet. The support group was called ‘Greeting Death Like an Old Friend.’

Good lord.

“Fine. Just one. And if I don’t like it, you can’t get mad at me,” Ben reluctantly agreed.

Ann grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

~~

Monday evening, Ben drove to the Pawnee Recreation Centre with low expectations of the support group. 

To be honest, he’d rather be at home, enjoying a calzone and watching reruns of Star Trek, not at in a room listening to sob stories about how others were coping with their cancers.

He slammed the door to his Saturn and strode up to a small community hall.

The sight in front of him was baffling.

Inside the hall were adults, most of them around his age, laughing and joking over paper cups of coffee. There were cakes too, lined up one a table close by - every kind you could imagine. 

Ben shyly made his way over to the refreshment table and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

“You new?”

Ben jumped at the sound of a voice, almost scalding his hand with the coffee. He saw a man who must have been maybe ten years older than him, with greying hair and untidy stubble over his chin. 

“Uh… yeah, I am,” Ben replied.

“Don’t be so nervous. It’s not so bad. You get free cake for starters,” the man said as he cut into a nearby cheesecake. “The name’s Jimmy.”

“Ben.”

“So, Ben,” Jimmy said as he straightened up. “Obviously you are here thanks to Mr. C. What’s your cause of death?”

Ben blinked. Jimmy was unbelievably relaxed about the whole thing, even more so than Ben was.

“Um… stomach,” Ben mumbled, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

Jimmy clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s rough. I’ve got lung cancer myself.”

“Oh,” Ben gulped. “I’m sorry.”

Jimmy waved him off. “Ah, don’t be. I’ve been smoking since I was 13. I had it coming.” He gestured to the circle of chairs, and Ben followed. “You’ll get used to it here. Especially being around so many of us cancerous folk. And don’t apologise, we’re all in the same boat. You’re not the only one with stomach cancer. Ellen over there, she’s been here for two months. She’s got it. Marshall has bone marrow cancer. That’s nasty. Shawn has throat cancer. They recently took out his voice box, and now he has a breathing stoma.”

Ben looked at the man in the corner of the room. He had a finger pressed to the base of his throat and was taking wheezing breaths. It was enough to make him feel queasy. He squirmed in his seat, and Jimmy laughed.

“You look like you’re going to piss yourself. Look, just sit back, relax, enjoy the free food and company,” Jimmy chortled as he took a bite from the cheesecake.

Ben took another healthy sip of coffee. “So, who runs this thing?”

“Leslie,” Jimmy said, looking at his watch. “She must be running late. She’s usually here by now.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a petite blonde woman came dashing in. She scurried past the circle of chairs and to an empty one, where she dumped her bag and coat.

“Sorry, sorry!” she squeaked. “There was traffic.”

“Hey, Knope,” Jimmy called out. “We have a new one for the slaughterhouse.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say that, Jimmy,” the woman sighed and stood up straight, allowing Ben to see her properly.

She was small, with shoulder length curly blonde hair cascading downward. Bright blue eyes looking in his direction made Ben feel both welcomed and exposed. She gave a warm smile and stepped towards him.

“Hello! My name is Leslie Knope. I’m the group leader,” Leslie said, stretching out her hand for Ben to shake.

“And the only one here who isn’t diseased,” Jimmy put in.

Leslie rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Ben. “I’ll get you to the front for a proper introduction in a bit,” she said and hurried back to her seat before Ben could refuse.

“Alright, everyone. Welcome to another session. As always, I’m so glad to see your happy faces,” Leslie said brightly.

She clasped her hands together and Ben’s stomach churned. “We have a new face here today. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name before, but maybe you could come up and introduce yourself to everyone?”

Jimmy clapped Ben on the back, and he slipped off his chair in shock. Nervously rubbing his hands on the sides of his jeans, Ben walked towards Leslie and faced the group. Suddenly, there were about twenty pairs of eyes on him, each waiting to hear his story.

“Uh… My name’s Ben Wyatt. I’m 35 and…” he swallowed and turned to Leslie. “Sorry, I don’t really know what else to say.”

“Maybe say why you’re here today. You don’t have to say anything that’ll make you feel uncomfortable, but ideally you should tell us something,” Leslie coached him.

Ben frowned. This whole situation was making him feel uncomfortable. “Alright. Um… well, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and I’ve been given six months to live, and uh… I was told to give this a shot and that being around people who are in a similar situation to me would be good… I don’t know. Sorry.”

Leslie patted him gently on the shoulder. “That’s ok. We don’t have to talk anymore. You can’t sit back down.”

Ben mumbled a thanks and shuffled back to his seat, where Jimmy was waiting, giving Ben a thumbs up.

The session went on. Thirty minutes later, Ben’s butt was numb from the plastic chair, and he’d been listening to a woman called Beth talk (and cry) for over ten minutes about how her son refused to take in her cats when she dies and that they would have to go to an adoption centre.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and grinned at Ben. Every now and then Jimmy would sigh, and Leslie would shoot glares at him. 

“Why don’t we hear from our new member?” Leslie said, causing Ben to jolt. “And give Beth a break to calm down.” She turned to him. “So, Ben, how are things going with you? We know you have six months to live, so how does that make you feel?”

Ben shrugged. What kind of a question was that? He had six months to live; how was he supposed to feel? Relieved? Sad? He was done with emotions and feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t want to sit here having everything dragged to the surface again.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. Leslie titled her head to the side.

“You must feel something?” Leslie pressed on. “Anger? Frustration? Is there anything you wish you could change?”

“Change?” Ben scoffed. “Of course there’s something I’d like to change. I’d like to go back to the day when my body decided to grow a mutilation on my organs and tell it to cut it out. No offence, but I really don’t feel comfortable talking about all of this, so I’d appreciate it if you moved on.”

Leslie frowned at him, her cheeks puffed out slightly. “You’re in a support group. That means talking. I’m sure everyone here will feel comfort in hearing your story.”

“Yeah, well, what if I don’t want to talk about it?” Ben growled. “I don’t want to live out the last six months talking about my feelings and what could have been. I’ve made my peace with it. Death can come whenever it’s ready.” He stood up abruptly. “Sorry. I don’t think this is for me.”

And, with that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the hall.

~~

Ben wasn’t going to tell Ann about storming out of the support group. She’d just scold him for not giving it a chance and causing a scene. A few days later, he was back at the hospital, hooked up to machines that pumped drugs into him. He rested his head back into the armchair and sighed.

“So, how did it go?”

Ben’s eyes snapped open, and he saw Ann by his side, checking his blood pressure.

“What?”

“How did the support group go?” Ann asked again. “You haven’t spoken about it yet.”

“It… uh… it went fine. But I don’t think it’s for me,” Ben mumbled, trying to ignore the throbbing in his stomach, hoping that the drugs would kick in soon to relieve him from the never-ending pain.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I know so many people who have benefitted from it,” Ann said as she straightened up again. “Anyway, my shift is over in a bit, so Hailey will finish up for you.”

Ben groaned. Hailey was an older nurse who would yank needles out of his arm like they were stray hairs.

He leaned back and closed his eyes again as he listened to the other patients in the room, mumbling quietly to their families. 

That’s when he heard it.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Ben swallowed. He recognised that voice. It was that same slightly bossy voice he had heard a few days ago.

He opened his eyes and saw her. Leslie was standing not too far away from him, telling something to Ann about visiting a patient just down the hall. Her eyes scanned the room absentmindedly and fell on Ben.

She frowned, and Ben looked away.

“Hello, Ben,” Leslie called to him, and Ben bit the inside of his cheek.

“Oh… hi.”

“Are you going to storm out of getting your medication? Or do you only do that to voluntary events?” Leslie hissed, scowling at him.

“What?” Ann looked over after retrieving her bag. “You stormed out?”

“She was pressuring me to talk about my emotions!” Ben tried to explain.

“I told you to give it a chance, and you couldn’t even do that,” Ann shook her head, disappointment laced in her voice.

Ben just looked back down at his hands and listened as Ann and Leslie finally walked away.

~~

A week after the support group meeting, Ben was picking up his lunch in a nearby Starbucks. He hovered close to the counter, waiting for his latte, when someone small and blonde bumped into him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I –”

Ben turned to look at the person, and his insides squirmed. There in front of him, for the third time in a week, was Leslie Knope.

“Oh…” she squeaked as she looked at him. “Hi, Ben. How are you?”

“Good, thanks,” Ben shrugged. “Well…as good as I’ll ever be I guess.”

Leslie nodded. “Good, that’s good. Well… not good, but y’know.”

The barista called out her name, and Leslie turned to take her coffee. “Well, it was nice to see you again.”

“How much whipped cream have you got on that thing?” Ben asked. He knew that Leslie was trying to get away from him. To be honest, he wasn’t sure why he was opting to have a conversation with her, but he was curious.

“I like whipped cream,” Leslie shrugged. “It makes coffee taste better.”

“I prefer no sugar on mine,” Ben said.

“Well, it’s a good thing this coffee isn’t for you,” Leslie said a little snootily and went to walk away again.

Something inside Ben stirred, and he suddenly wanted to follow her, to find out more about her and her sugar habits. Not to mention that, as the days went by, he realised how terrible he felt by storming out of her support group. She was only trying to help after all.

“Hey, Leslie,” Ben called after her, while taking his latte from the barista. She turned and faced him, sucking her iced coffee with an unimpressed look on her face.

“I’m sorry about last week,” Ben said. “I…those kinds of situations aren’t really for me, and I handled it pretty badly. I guess I’m not used to having to be so open about…everything.”

Leslie blinked. They were now outside the coffee shop, where there were a few tables just around the building. She nodded towards them, and Ben took a seat. 

“You know it’s the best way to cope,” Leslie said. “Just talking about it and getting it out into the open makes it seem like it’s not so scary.”

Ben smirked. “That’s easy for you to say; you’re perfectly healthy. Look, I’m all for talking about it, but maybe you shouldn’t be so pushy. Like, if people don’t want to talk, then you shouldn’t push them to do so. I was perfectly happy just sitting there listening to other stories.”

Leslie looked like she just swallowed a bitter pill. “Alright, fine, you have a point. But I just like to make everyone feel valued, and not like they’re defined by their cancer. So, getting people to open up just makes me understand what they are going through. Because I can’t imagine how horrible it must be for everyone, and I just want my groups to be a space where people are comfortable and like they aren’t being judged all the time.”

Ben took a sip from his coffee. “I know. But everyone is different. It’s nothing bad against the group, or you for that matter. It’s just something to learn for next time.”

Leslie sighed and nodded. “I guess you’re right. But can you do me a favour? Next week, just sit through the two sessions and see what you really think? I won’t pick on you to talk; I promise, but…this group has helped a lot of people, and when it does come to…the end, I’ve had patients write letters of thanks telling me how I helped, and that’s the most rewarding part of my job, to see that I’ve helped people cope. I want to do the same for you. So, can you come, please?”

Ben sighed. “Fine. I’ll come. But let me just sit there quietly, I’ll listen to everyone’s stories.”

Leslie got up from her chair. “It’s a promise then,” she said, stretching out her free hand for Ben to shake.

He grasped it. “It’s a promise.”

As Leslie walked away, Ben realised that she was the first person in well over a month to shake his hand.

~~

Leslie’s eyes scanned the room. She could see all her usual and familiar faces in the group and two new members. With Ben’s advice, she approached them and told them that they didn’t have to talk if they didn’t want to, but they both seemed pretty open to talk about their tumour and skin cancer respectively.

But, Ben, the man who gave her that advice, wasn’t to be seen. She sighed. So much for promises being kept.

Trying not to look to disappointed, she clapped her hands together. “Ok, shall we get started for today?”

Just then, the door clattered open, and Leslie looked up to see Ben step into the room. He bowed his head and scuttled towards an empty chair. 

“Sorry I’m late. There was traffic,” he mumbled as he perched down in the chair.

“It’s fine,” Leslie said, trying desperately to hide the tears in her eyes.

He came. He wanted her help, and that made her the happiest person in the room.


	2. Five Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments I received on the first chapter, it really means a lot to me!
> 
> Hopefully they'll be more regular updates, I'm trying to concentrate on just one story at a time, so we'll see!
> 
> Don't forget to comment and kudos on this chapter!

Ben arrived at the Pawnee Recreational centre nearly twenty minutes early. 

He’d come straight from work and had prided himself for being early. It had been over a month since he started attending Leslie’s support group, and felt better for doing so. Though, he’d never admit that to her, not yet anyway.

Things didn’t seem to be as bad anymore. Ben would laugh and joke with Ann and the other nurses at his regular appointments. He made several friends at the support group, and even went bowling with Jimmy and another guy called Michael. 

He still didn’t feel comfortable to talk, and would still sit in silence. He’d sit in his usual seat in the corner of the room where no one would notice him and get through the next hour pretending to listen to everyone’s stories, but really, he’d be in the back with Jimmy, muttering about music and buying old records.

Ben liked Jimmy. He had lived and seemed to know everything. He and Ben would discuss what R.E.M song was the best and Jimmy would tell him about his old record collection when he was younger.

He had turned up today with his iPod filled with songs to exchange with Jimmy, only to find Leslie sat in her usual seat, head buried in her hands and sobbing.

Ben hesitated for a moment, for a second he thought about running back out of the room and hoping that she didn’t see him, but something kept him there. Maybe it was the fact that he’d never seen Leslie like this. He’d only ever seen her as happy and perky, annoyingly so, but still, the image in front of him seemed so foreign.

He rubbed the back of his neck and took a step closer to her. “Hey, are you ok?”

Leslie looked up and wiped her eyes. Mascara had smudged around the rims of her bright blue eyes. “Jimmy died last night.”

Suddenly, cancer was present in the room again. Ben had forgotten all about it, and had felt a sweet release from its cold grip. But now, it was back. Sitting in his usual spot in the room, tapping a timer, reminding him that he only had five months left.

And Jimmy… poor Jimmy. Ben knew that he didn’t have that long left, and that his lung cancer was getting worse, and would have to excuse himself several times during meetings thanks to a persistent cough. But Ben saw him last Thursday, and he was fine, laughing and joking just like usual.

And that scared him, right now, in himself, he felt fine. But he knew that when cancer had decided his time was up, it wouldn’t be slow and gradual, it would be like turning off a light switch. Done, off and dark.

Ben slumped into a seat next to Leslie, rubbing a hand across his forehead. His thoughts travelled to Jimmy’s family. He knew he had two daughters. They’d be in mourning, probably having to already think about planning his funeral.

“But he seemed ok,” Ben said, trying to get his head around it. “Last week, he was fine.”

Leslie sniffed. “It was worse than what he let on. He was always in pain. I spoke to Ann… she has to let me know that there’ll be one less member. She said that he was rushed to the emergency room a few days ago, unable to breath. They tried to save him, but they couldn’t.”

She turned to Ben. “Are you ok? I know you two were close.”

Ben was still in shock, his knuckles turned white, and he felt faint. “I don’t know. I forgot that making friends here would also mean having to say goodbye pretty quickly. I… I just didn’t expect it. Not from Jimmy.”

He bit his lip. Despite coming here twice a week, and talking about cancer, he’d had a few weeks of sweet relief without being reminded that he himself had five months left.

Now, he could see the timer hanging in front of him again, counting backwards.

He felt a hand on his. He looked up and saw Leslie had rested her hand against his. She wiped her eyes with her free hand.

“The first death is always the hardest,” she told Ben. “It’s ok. Jimmy had a great life. It’s just the goodbye that’s hard.”

“How many have you seen pass?” Ben asked her. “In the group?”

Leslie thought for a moment. “Um… maybe twenty? It’s hard to tell. I don’t like to count. Every time it happens, it never gets easier. But I have to keep a front and try to be positive.”

She looked at her watch and pulled her hand away from Ben’s. “I should wash my face; the group will start soon.”

And she walked towards the restroom, and Ben wanted nothing more but to follow her, to make sure she was ok.

A few moments later, members of the group piled in, helping themselves to slices of cake and coffee. It didn’t feel right to tell them, no, they didn’t want to hear it from Ben, from someone who’d been there for only a month. They’d want to hear it from Leslie.

Instead, he sat quietly, toying around with his phone. 

It didn’t take too long for Leslie to come back in, and Ben noticed she had a soft smile on her face. Her eyes were clear of any mascara that was previously smudged around the rims, and she looked presentable.

Once the group sat down, she cleared her through and clasped her hands in front of her. Ben noticed her close her eyes for a brief moment, as if she was giving herself an inner pep-talk.

“Before we start, I have something to tell you all,” Leslie said softly. “Last night, Jimmy unfortunately passed away.”

There was an audible gasp throughout the room. Some immediately burst into tears, while others asked Leslie for more information.

“It’s a huge shock to everyone, but Jimmy’s cancer had progressed significantly, and it was something he didn’t want anyone to know. He’d been coming to this group for a long time, and had made some wonderful friends. He wanted to be remembered as the man that could crack a joke in the darkest of times, as the man who would laugh at inappropriate moments by accident. He wanted to be remembered as someone who could still be fun, despite having cancer,” Leslie said, holding her head high.

Ben was amazed. Leslie had planned a whole speech, and it looked like she had been planning it for weeks, which wasn’t possible, unless she already had death speeches lined up for all of them.

She was so well prepared with everything else, he wouldn’t put it past her.

But the way she composed herself really surprised Ben. A few minutes ago, she was sobbing, tears rolling down her face. And now, she stood strong in front of everyone, a pillar of hope.

And he never felt happier to have someone like that in his presence.

~~

The group ended an hour later. There weren’t much talks about anyone’s recent appointments or worries. They mainly spoke about Jimmy, swapping stories and laughing and crying at memories of him.

Slowly, the group started to gather their things. Ben was pulling on his coat, when Michael came up to him.

“We’re going to Tucker’s, the bar across the road. It’s tradition if one of us goes, we have to have a drink in their honour,” Michael explained solemnly.

Suddenly, alcohol seemed incredibly appealing to Ben. He nodded in agreement, and went to leave with Michael and the others, when he noticed Leslie packing away her supplies, gently wiping at her nose.

“Is Leslie invited?” he asked.

Michael hovered for a moment. “No. She doesn’t really care. Come on, she didn’t like Jimmy, she was always telling him off.”

“She does care,” Ben cut in. “I know she does. And I think she’s probably had a rough day too and could use a drink.”

Michael shrugged. “Invite her if you want. I doubt she’ll want to come.”

Ben nodded, telling Michael he’d catch up later. He looked back at Leslie with a sad smile. She had every right to be at the drinks tonight. She did care, Ben could see it. He was the only one that saw her truly break down earlier.

She must get like that whenever anyone in her group died, of course she did. She probably got to know people, and would mourn whenever one would leave.

She’d probably mourn him once he was gone too.

Ben awkwardly walked over to Leslie, trying to get her attention, but she seemed more interested in packing away her bag.

“Uh…hey, hi,” Ben mumbled, waving slightly at her. Leslie looked up, and Ben could see fresh tears in her eyes.

She quickly wiped them away. “Hi. Sorry, is everything ok?”

“Yeah, um…look, here’s the thing. Everyone is going to Tucker’s to have a drink for Jimmy. I’ve been invited and wanted to see if you wanted to come with me?” Ben asked, clearing his throat after he spoke.

Leslie swiped at the tears. “Oh…well they wouldn’t want me there. I don’t want to cramp your style.”

“You have every right to be there,” Ben cut in. “You knew Jimmy. You cared about him. So, come? First drink is on me.”

Leslie looked down at her bag and then back up at Ben. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” Ben said. “We’ve had a crappy day, let’s at least end it on toasting to a great man.”

Leslie giggled and sniffed. “Ok, that sounds good. I’ll go.”

Ben helped her carry the empty cake containers out to her car, then hailed a taxi for them to take. They’d leave their cars here and pick them up later. Neither of them knew what kind of state they’d be in later.

They arrived at the bar and found the group. They occupied a small area towards the back where it was quieter so they could talk. Ben led Leslie to the bar and ordered two beers for him and Leslie.

He shouldn’t really be drinking. Doctors told him that it wasn’t ideal, but if he really wanted to then he could. He was dying anyway, it’s not like there was any point of telling him about how alcohol could affect the multitude of drugs he had to take every day.

Ben swallowed his first mouthful with a hum of approval. It was times like this where alcohol made him forget. He could forget about the deathly tumour that resided in his stomach. He could forget about the fact that two days ago it dropped to just being five months left. Here, in this moment, he could let the alcohol infect his bloodstream, and relax.

Leslie seemed to be in the same mood. She took a long swig of her beer and sighed. “That’s good,” she murmured, looking at the bottle.

Ben nodded in agreement. He looked around at the others, who seemed to be muttering and shooting looks at Leslie and Ben’s direction.

“I don’t think they want me here,” Leslie mumbled, looking down.

“I don’t care. You have every right to be here,” Ben said. “It’s just because they probably see you as a teacher more than anything.”

Leslie smirked a little. “How’s everything with you? You never really talk about it, but I’m curious, I just want to know that you’re ok and dealing with this all.”

Ben thought a little. She was right. Since his little outburst last month he’d kept silent in the groups. Sure, he had bonded with these people, but he still didn’t feel comfortable with telling them all about how some mornings he can’t get out of bed because the pain is too much.

But the way that Leslie was looking at him… it wasn’t the look of someone who was pressuring him to talk about his feelings. She genuinely wanted to know.

“I’m ok,” Ben said with a small, reassuring nod. “Some mornings are better than others. But I’m coping. Work’s pressuring me to resign though, spend the remainder of my time not working and all that.” He rolled his eyes, and Leslie titled her head to the side.

“Why don’t you resign?”

“I’d go crazy,” Ben said in earnest. “Right now, I get up and go to work and put all of my money into my will. I want to leave my family a good amount. I’m not married, all of my money will go to them. I’m leaving extra for my sister, though. She’s going to have her second baby not long after… you know, my time is up. I want her to spoil those kids rotten with that money, though I know she’ll probably be smart and put it into their college funds.” He smirked. “I’ll come back and haunt her if she does.”

Leslie giggled at that, and Ben smiled at her. “What about you? I’ve not heard about your family? What’s your situation?”

“I’m not married either,” Leslie said. “Work kind of takes over my life. I date, but that’s it really.”

“By work do you mean the support group?” Ben asked.

“No, my actual job is deputy director for the Parks Department,” Leslie explained. “The support group is just something I do, a little something I give back to the community.”

“How come?” Ben asked. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but suddenly he wanted to learn more about Leslie.

He noticed Leslie take a deep breath before speaking again. “My dad died of cancer when I was ten. He’d been really sick for a long time and I saw how going to these kinds of groups helped him. The group falls under the recreational programs we host, and it was going to be cut due to budget problems, so I offered to host it twice a week and take it out of the budget. I saw how it helped my dad, and I didn’t want to take that away from people.”

She sighed a little. “He never would tell me about his problems. He’d just tell me that he was great and how he loved me. But I knew. I knew he was dying, and I just wanted him to be honest with me. That’s why I press people to talk, because I don’t want them to keep it all bottled up, I want them to know they can talk to me.”

“He probably didn’t want to worry you,” Ben said, leaning against the bar. “I get that, I don’t want to tell people about my problems because I’m that kind of person, but he loved you, he didn’t want to make you sad. You were so young, too.”

“I know,” Leslie said, taking another sip from her bottle. “But this group is like my closure, I guess.” She smiled in the direction of the others. “Seeing them come every week makes me feel like I’m doing a good job.”

“You are,” Ben said, and he noticed Leslie blush.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” she said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Suddenly, the jukebox changed, and the all too familiar sound of Blue Oyster Cult’s ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ came on.

Ben smirked. “I used to hate this song,” he told Leslie. “When I first found out about it, I used to turn it over, but now I like it.”

“You don’t fear the reaper anymore?” Leslie asked with a grin.

“Nope,” Ben said, sounding confident. “He can come whenever he wants. I’m waiting.”

They both laughed. It felt wrong, joking about cancer, but sometimes laughter was the only thing that got Ben through it the day.

He nodded towards Leslie’s almost empty beer bottle. “You want another?”

“Sounds good, but I’ll get them,” Leslie said, signalling over to the bartender.

~~

It was a little past eleven when they finally left the bar. They said goodbye to the last few people from the group that remained and walked down the street to look for taxis.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight,” Leslie said, “it really means a lot to me.”

“No problem,” Ben replied. “Everyone deserves their closure. Even bossy group leaders.”

Leslie cackled and pushed Ben gently. They’d both had a bit to drink, and Ben felt suitably buzzed. From the flushed look on Leslie’s face he could tell that she was too.

“Do you live far?” Ben asked, and Leslie shook her head.

“About ten minutes away, I’ll get a cab back, it’s fine. What about you?”

“I might walk,” Ben said. “It’s a nice night, I can walk the alcohol off.”

Leslie smirked. “If you insist. I’m all for getting a taxi.”

They both stopped at the end of the road and stared out, waiting for the flash of car headlights that could be a taxi. Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was a little chilly, but he didn’t mind too much.

Leslie was swaying a little on the spot, humming ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’. Ben chuckled at her.

“That song will be in your head for weeks now,” he teased.

“I’ll think of you whenever I hear it,” Leslie said, then she paused. “I’m sorry, that sounded weird.”

Ben shrugged it off. “It’s fine. It’s a good song.”

Leslie nodded in agreement. “It is.”

The shine of lights down the road caught Ben’s eye. He looked up and noticed the dirty yellow colour on the car.

“Here you are,” he said, hailing the taxi for her. The car pulled up and the driver waited patiently as Leslie opened the door.

“This was really nice tonight,” Leslie said as she leaned against the open door. “It was nice to have a send off for Jimmy, and also to get to know you better.”

“It was,” Ben said.

The next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Maybe we should do this again sometime?”

Leslie like surprised, but a small smile crept across her mouth. “I’d really like that. Maybe somewhere with food next time? So we don’t accidentally get drunk?”

Ben chuckled and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Leslie gave him one last wave before closing the door, and the car drove off. 

Ben sucked in a deep breath of cold air. He didn’t start walking just yet, he stayed hovering on the spot, watching the taxi speed off into the distance.

Suddenly he had the urge to run after the car, to tell it to stop and climb in with Leslie. He wanted to go to her place and carry on talking, he wanted to learn everything about her, even if it took all night.

He shook his head, wanting to slap himself. No, this wasn’t happening. He couldn’t fall for her.

Not when he only had five months of living left.


End file.
